Vanessa stepped forward calmly. Each step echoed clearly on the now silent floor. Marco and Wyn were still kneeling. Cold sweat drenched their faces, dripping onto the floor. Their bodies trembled violently, as if a single word could determine life or death.Vanessa stopped right in front of Marco. Without hesitation, she lifted her foot and stepped on the man's head, pressing him to the floor with measured but undeniable force.Marco gasped for breath. Vanessa leaned down slightly, her voice calm—too calm for such a cruel situation. "All those people were your doing, weren't they?"The question slid out coldly, without emotion.The pressure on Marco's head made his breathing falter. His chest rose and fell irregularly. He was completely unprepared to face this side of her—a side that did not match the elegant woman he had seen on screen.Not gentle. Not charming. But cruel in her calmness. The difference felt like a complete 180-degree turn. Marco's lips trembled. Cold sweat dripped

“Oh...”Harvey's eyebrows rose slightly. Not because he was surprised—but because he had finally gotten the piece of information he was looking for. His face remained calm. There was no tension. Not even a hint of fear when the threat was made.“So you're part of a group,” he said flatly, as if confirming ordinary information.The man chuckled softly. His voice was hoarse, but there was disgusting pride behind it. His chest heaved heavily, as if reinforcing his courage.“In Southvale,” he said with a smirk, “there's no one who doesn't know me.”He lifted his chin as much as he could.“Henry Saul,” he continued arrogantly. “From Big Snake.”The name was spoken slowly, as if it were a curse.“There are still many members in my group,” he said again. His eyes were bright, full of confidence. “And they are very—very—strong.”He stared straight at Harvey, his smile widening even though his jaw was trembling.“You may be strong,” he said, emphasizing each word, “but I'm sure... you will die

For nearly thirty seconds, a barrage of gunfire rained down relentlessly. The walls of the building were riddled with bullet holes, concrete fragments fell, and the air inside the room thickened with gunpowder smoke. The smell of metal and gunpowder stung the nose.The shooting finally stopped—not because of an order, but because the magazines were empty.One by one, Viper's men stared at their weapons. Their breathing was heavy, their chests rising and falling rapidly. Their fingers reflexively pressed the triggers, but no more shots came out.Click.Viper clicked his tongue in annoyance. He roughly pulled out the Desert Eagle's magazine and inserted a new one. His movements were quick and experienced—clearly not his first time in a firefight.He spat on the cracked floor. The spit mixed with dust and concrete debris."Damn it..." he muttered low, full of anger.His eyes scanned the room, still filled with smoke. His gaze was sharp, impatient, as if he was certain that the person the

Laila closed her eyes as tightly as she could. Her breath caught in her throat. This was it. The sound of gunfire erupted almost simultaneously—a deafening barrage. The vibrations of the weapons shook the air.But a second passed. Two seconds. Five seconds.There was no pain. No heat. No darkness. Hesitantly, Laila opened her eyes. What she saw made her gasp.Laila turned around.Albus sat frozen. The shotgun in his hands was destroyed, the barrel split as if it had exploded from the inside. Blood flowed freely from his left hand, dripping onto the floor.Albus hissed in pain, then looked up. His gaze locked onto Harvey."You bastard!" he roared, his face red. "What kind of crazy trick did you use, huh?!"He clutched his bleeding hand, anger mixed with panic in his eyes."Why are all my men unconscious—" his voice rose, almost hysterical, "—and why did my shotgun explode?"Laila swallowed hard. She still couldn't believe what had just happened—until her gaze fell on the shotgun lying

Several days had passed since Asta moved in with Harvey and Vanessa in Southvale. The crying that used to be almost incessant was now rarely heard. Occasionally, a small smile would appear on her face—awkward, but real.The loss of Elsa still left its mark, but it no longer turned into tears at every moment. With Vanessa's constant patience and Harvey's quiet but calming presence, the wound slowly began to heal.Asta began to learn to breathe again. He learned that life had not completely stopped on that day.Now Asta plays in the sand on the beach. His hands are busy digging, building small walls, forming a simple castle. He stands in the middle with his chest puffed out, acting as the king of his own little kingdom—his imagination finally finding its way back into the boy's head.From a distance, Harvey and Vanessa watch him. They sit side by side, close enough that their shoulders touch. Vanessa then rests her head on Harvey's shoulder, letting the sound of the waves fill the silen